A Constant Reminder
by ianxfalcon
Summary: Based on an idea by Aurasama on DeviantArt: Daniel succeeds in stopping the ritual and closing the portal, but Alexander is still alive. Driven mad with grief and rage, he decides to take it out on the one person responsible for his pain: Daniel. Rated M just to be safe. Oneshot.


_This story is based on an idea by Aurasama on DeviantArt. All credit goes to her; only the words are mine._

_"Amnesia: The Dark Descent" belongs to Frictional Games. No copyright infringement intended._

* * *

When he opened his eyes, everything was dark. He shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to think. There was a numb pain throbbing in his shoulders and his back. He realized he was upright; something held him up, and when he tried to move, his legs would not work. He could barely feel them.

Darkness. It did not go away, as he had thought it would. It was massive, pressing down on him. He tried to control his breathing. He fought to keep down the panic that threatened to flood him when the darkness closed in on him, choking him. He could see nothing, no shapes, no movement, not even his own body as he thrashed his head wildly, trying to escape it.

"Hello?" he called. His voice was hoarse; his throat felt sore, as if he had been screaming for hours, although he couldn't remember why. "Is there anyone there?" Nothing answered, and he felt the panic trying to overpower him again. Alone in darkness, and there was nothing, nothing here. He tried to get up, free himself of whatever it was that was holding him, but he still couldn't move.

"Am I… am I alone in here?" he said, not expecting an answer. There wasn't even an echo, as if the darkness swallowed the sound of his voice. "Hello? Anybody? Please, anybody!"

His heartbeat pounded wildly in his ears as he fought for control, trying to understand, to remember, to _see. _His head hurt. It was filled with a damp mist. There was _nothing there. _Not even a name. He had no idea who he was, where he was, and why. All he knew was that if he stayed here, he would lose his mind. But there seemed to be no way out.

"Anybody!" Screaming now, and it was painful. "Please! Please, help me!"

"Still afraid of the dark, Daniel?" a voice said. He turned towards it, so fast he thought his neck might snap. The voice had been so close, but still he couldn't see anything.

"Where are you? I cannot see anything!"

"I'm right here," the voice said. "Don't be afraid. I need you to calm down, or you might choke and lose consciousness again. I've already waited too long for you to wake up. My patience is wearing thin."

"Who _are _you?" he whispered.

"You don't remember me, Daniel. But you will. Trust me on that. Now, _relax. _Deep breaths."

"It's so… dark," he managed to say.

"I know. There will be light soon enough. Calm down, Daniel."

"Am I- am I Daniel?" The name felt unfamiliar on his tongue.

"Indeed you are." The man's voice was deep and dry, but reassuring. And yet it filled him with some unknown terror.

"What is this place?" he said hoarsely. "Why is it so dark?"

"Are you calm now? Good." He could hear the man's breathing – he was so _close_, right next to him – and then a strange rustle. Suddenly, the room was filled with warm light. He had to avert his eyes, it was so sharp, almost blinding, and he thought, _How long have I been in darkness? _It was so odd, that he couldn't remember.

Slowly opening his eyes again, he found he could breathe easier, as if the darkness really had been trying to choke him.

They were in a chamber, and the light did not illuminate more than a little spot. All around them were shadows, clinging along the walls. He couldn't look at them. They seemed to be alive. Moving just outside the light, reaching for him.

He looked away, back to the source of both the voice and the light. A lantern lit up the face above it. An old man's face, thin, fragile, almost translucent. His eyes, however, were bright and deep and they looked straight at him. They burned with hatred.

Daniel – if that really was his name; it seemed wrong, somehow – shied away from them. He looked down. The floor was dark, cold stone, and he could actually feel it now. His bare knees rested on the stone, and beneath him were spots of something darker, unpleasantly coloured in the flickering light. For a moment, he was absorbed by that, but then the man started talking. Despite what he had seen in his eyes, there was no hint of hatred or any other emotion in his voice.

"To answer your questions, this place was once Brennenburg castle. Now it's nothing but a ruin of stone and rotten flesh. And it's dark because the Shadow has inhabited it. It's surrounding us as we speak. This is all because of you. I know you can't remember it. I hope it will come back to you eventually. It wasn't really my intention to use the Amnesia mixture," he added, "but it seemed it was the only way to salvage your mind. I couldn't have you go insane. Not yet."

Amnesia mixture? Was that the reason why he couldn't remember anything? But he could not imagine anything that could infuse such memory loss in a person, especially not during these circumstances. Why did these words seem so familiar, when he could hardly understand what the man was saying? His head hurt. He recognized that. And that lingering taste in his mouth; he recognized that too.

Staring at the spot between his knees, he realized he knew what it was. It seemed so familiar; blood against stone. Amnesia mixture… the taste of Damascus rose… faint but throbbing pain… it was all there, somewhere, and he just needed to… to find it. He felt ice cold chains across his shoulders; they were what held him up. Slowly craning his neck, he looked at his own body. He was naked; his skin looked pale and sickly in this light. Scars crossed his chest. Some of them were old and white, some red, fresh, perhaps less than a day old by the look of them.

He just stared at them. This couldn't be! It was beyond everything he could… _Why could he not remember?_ His head felt light as air, but the darkness was seeping through. His mind started to dissolve. Feeling like he was losing balance, he fell forward, but a hand was placed on his chest and steadied him.

"I need you to stay awake, Daniel," the man said.

"What," he gasped, "what happened to me?"

"Only what you deserved," the man said. "I took it on me to deliver that redemption you were seeking so frantically. Maybe this wasn't exactly what you were looking for, but expectations never live up to what reality has to offer. You always had trouble understanding that fact, didn't you?"

"Why did you do this to me?" Daniel asked. "Who _are _you?"

"My name is Alexander," the man said.

Alexander. That name, for some reason, woke something up within him. It was… it was… whatever it was, it was gone now.

"Now, Daniel," Alexander said. "Tell me… what _do _you remember?"

He tried to concentrate, to force the memories to form in the vastness that was his mind, but they wouldn't come.

"Nothing," he said.

"Nothing less than expected," Alexander said. "The human mind can only take that much before it starts breaking down. And after all, it's not the first time for you, is it?"

His voice sent a shiver down Daniel's spine.

"I shall have to remind you, then," Alexander said, almost cheerfully. "I'm sure it will come back to you with… enough _persuasion_." Then he stood up, and it wasn't until now Daniel realized he had been crouching. He towered over him, like a demon out of Hell, and looking up at him made the insides of Daniel's head start spinning again. Above Alexander, there was… nothing. No roof. No light, nor any visible sky. Just shadows that seemed to go on forever. And that thing moving within them, like something alive, pulsating like blood.

For a moment, his mind boggled at the whole thing, teetering at the brink of complete annihilation. _I'm dead_, he thought. _I'm dead and this is Hell. And he is the Devil, tearing my soul and mind apart for eternity. That is the only explanation. This place… it's not real. It can't be real!_

He heard a metallic chink and realized Alexander was pulling something out of his coat. Some strange tool. It looked like a thick needle, perhaps a foot long, made of metal that gleamed dully in the light. Daniel was certain he had never seen anything like it before, but of course he did not remember anything outside of this room. It could be the only world he had ever known, and that implement might have been part of it forever. It looked like it was aching for him.

Above him, the shadows were still moving. The pulse of the room seemed to quicken with his own as he stared at the thing in the man's hands.

"A reminder," Alexander said. The tip of the instrument touched Daniel's skin, icy and sharp, and then pierced it. The pain was not immediate; maybe it was the pure shock of it that kept him from feeling it straight away. He _knew _it was there, and yet… "All the people you hurt in your selfish search for salvation," Alexander said. "You tortured them, and murdered them, believing you could somehow be saved through them. You came here looking for salvation, but you only brought destruction! Do you remember?"

"No. I don't remember anything! I-" The pain was suddenly all too real. Anything he was about to say disappeared in a wave and he gasped for air, trying to scream through a throat already sore.

"Can you not hear them cry, Daniel?" Alexander said, unconcernedly raising his voice above Daniel's wheezing breaths. "You murdered them, fed them to the shadows, all in pursuit of your own salvation! Do you remember?"

"_No!_" He couldn't even see anymore; the only thing he knew was the needle in his chest, slowly being twisted around as it dug into his flesh, deeper and deeper. It had been cold first, but now it was white hot, spreading outwards like fire. He tried to back away, to escape, but of course there would have been nowhere to run even if his body through some miracle would suddenly start functioning again. "Forgive me! I don't remember!"

It wasn't even the words Alexander spoke – he could hear them, but he didn't believe them. It felt so foreign and unreal; certainly he was not a murderer – how would he ever forget such a thing? But the pain was real, and if confessing every conceivable sin would make it stop then he would confess anything, even if he remembered nothing. Maybe he was paying his due… maybe he deserved it, but it didn't matter, if it would just _stop…_

"They were there, Daniel", Alexander said. "And you sacrificed them all. Human beings. Men, women, and children. Every last one of them."

"Forgive me!" he sobbed, barely able to speak any more. "Please! Forgive me, I'm…"

Just as that, the pain was gone. Well, it wasn't really gone, there was a residue left, burning his insides, but it was such a relief compared to before that it was like Heaven. Alexander held up the tool and showed a blade covered in blood. Daniel's vision was blurred with tears, but he thought the man's face wore a coldly satisfied expression.

"This is not my usual procedure," Alexander said over his pained gasps. "Regrettably so, I should add. Unfortunately, I don't have access to all the proper equipment anymore. Most of it was buried in rubble in the cave-in. I have been forced to improvise."

"Why." Daniel's voice was barely audible, and talking hurt, but he swallowed, started over again. "Why are you doing this?"

Alexander's hand shot out and grabbed his chin in a crushing grip. He forced his face upwards until their eyes met. Alexander's eyes were mismatched and fiery. "Because you deserve it!" he hissed. "I know you don't remember, but I do. I remember all too well, Daniel. You came here, asking me, _begging _me for help, and when I took you in, you stabbed me in the back!" All of a sudden, his calm exterior seemed to slide off him, like an old mask cracking, and beneath it was something else. A writhing terror, madness and grief and rage, and his hand around Daniel's chin squeezed, his fingers digging into his flesh. "I was patient!" Alexander said. "You think you know what pain is? You know nothing! What you experience now is nothing, NOTHING compared to what I've felt! I've been trapped in this pathetic dimension for centuries, waiting, _praying _for a way home! Would you even be able to understand how hard it has been, how painful it has been to know that the place where you belong is out of reach and that every day, it's slipping further away? But I waited. I never gave up, even when the pain was unbearable! I knew I would have to find a way. I had to, otherwise I would perish. I was _so close_… and then you came. You ruined everything I had been fighting for! You took everything from me. Everything! I'm merely taking it back. Do you understand that? One drop of blood for every minute you took from me, for every minute I've had to endure in this endless torture!"

His voice broke and he took a step back, letting Daniel go in the process. Daniel looked down, moved his jaw, tried to shake off the numbness, anything to avoid looking at the man and invoking his rage. But eventually, he had to look up. He knew he had to. Carefully lifting his head, he faced Alexander, heart beating frantically. Alexander merely looked at him. The rage was gone now, only sorrow remained. But his eyes – oh, his eyes! Like those of a madman, a man who had lost everything and was tearing the entire world apart in a futile search for a way to end his misery. The rage might be gone, but when he met Daniel's eyes, his own glistening with tears, there was still hatred in them.

"Trust me…" Alexander said. "I will make you pay. I will make you feel all the pain I have felt, and I will not let you go until I think it is enough. It might take years. I have all the time in the world. And so do you, now."

"I don't… I don't understand," Daniel whispered hoarsely.

"That is hardly a surprise," Alexander said.

"Am I dead?"

"Far from it. Actually… as far as the rest of the world is concerned, you are. Both of us are. But in here, we are both still alive. It won't do you any good to know that. I doubt it will change anything." He seemed to have regained his composure. His eyes reflected the fire from the lantern. For some reason, this pushed Daniel even closer to the edge. Maybe this really was Hell. He was certain there would be fire in Hell, even though he couldn't remember why he thought that. But when he closed his eyes, the fires he saw weren't red and hot; they were cold, like death, and they were a flicker, a bluish light, surrounding him…

"Daniel?"

He opened his eyes, only now realizing he had been speaking out loud.

"Don't lose your mind, Daniel. I need it to be whole." Alexander leaned in, and his fingers touched Daniel's chest, digging deeper into the wound, widening it. Daniel gasped. His vision started to go blurry again, flashing between darkness and light. "I can sense it," Alexander said. "Yes. You're far too easy, Daniel. There is so much fear in you."

Then he was silent, and the only sounds were Daniel's gasping sobs and the blood slowly dripping on the floor. Alexander backed away, raising a bloodied hand.

_My blood_, Daniel thought. He wanted to throw up, but he was afraid to move. It would hurt so much. Alexander knew what he was doing. How long had he been doing these things? There were those scars, and plenty of them. How long? Through the hazy fog in his mind, Daniel could recall other screams, other rooms like this one, all darkness and the stench of fear and death, amnesia, madness, voices begging for mercy… No. No! He turned away from them, did not want to see. Head pounding, shoulders aching on the border of snapping – at least that was how it felt – all he could do was watching his torturer moving around, his face alternately in shadow and light. He did not look human.

Daniel thought, _He might be telling the truth. About… about everything. I could be a murderer, a monster. He could be my personal demon, sent here to punish me forever. But he hates me. Oh, God, how he hates me. _

It did not matter, though. That was what he had to hold on to. Whether this was Hell or not, he would never be able to leave. If he was a guilty man, maybe this was what he deserved, but how could he possibly be guilty if he could not even remember what he had done? It made no difference, either way. Remembering or not, his fate rested fully in Alexander's hands. That much was certain.

But he could remember some things now. There were fragments, resurfacing memories that he could not escape. They were not many, and they had no context, but they were there. Screams and voices and blood. One of these voices was his own. He had been laughing. Alexander had been there too, he believed, hovering above him like a ghoul, whispering things into his ears.

That flickering, bluish light. It had been inside him, filling him up. Something had been falling, breaking into pieces.

_You fool! You've killed us both!_

He looked up, and Alexander was there, in front of him. He had not spoken, but it was his voice that had been screaming those words as the world fell down around them, shaking like madness, and the shadow consumed them both. He remembered that.

_I should have killed him! _Daniel thought, and recognized this as truth. _I should have killed them all, burned this castle to the ground!_

"You failed, Daniel," Alexander said. He stared at him intently, as if he could read his mind. Perhaps he could. That was hardly a strange thing to imagine, now. "Your quest for redemption and petty revenge. You failed. I would have given you a whole new world, but you didn't listen to me. You were too occupied with your own selfish needs and desire to realize what I had to offer. This is what led us both here. It's all your fault, and you will know this, even if I have to keep reminding you forever."

"I did the right thing," Daniel whispered, but he was unsure if that was true.

"That is the kind of self-denial that keeps human beings from becoming like mad dogs," Alexander said. "If you could only see yourselves the way I see you, you would never stop screaming. But you did see it, didn't you? You saw it once, and you did not have the strength to handle it. You'd rather blame me. It makes it so much easier."

He took a few steps back, as if admiring his handiwork. A few steps more, and the darkness would devour him. Seemed fitting, really. A beast from beyond, going back into the realm of shadows.

"Are you scared now?" he asked. Daniel didn't know what sort of answer he expected, but he thought that lying to this man would only make matters worse. He nodded. Alexander nodded too. "You should be," he said. "We are barely getting started."

He produced something else from inside the hackneyed red coat he was wearing. An empty glass jar, insides stained with reddish brown. He caressed it like one would a loved one. The jar in one hand, the bloodied tool in the other, he came closer again. Daniel wanted to scream, but the cold, joyless smile on Alexander's lips made the scream catch in his throat.

~o~

When it was over, the chains were the only thing keeping him upright.

He could hear the sound of his own blood dripping into the jar. The sound seemed endless even without an echo. He held his head down, so he would not have to look at his tormentor any longer, but was too afraid to close his eyes, because he did not know if he would be able to open them again. Too afraid that the next time he opened them, if he could, there would only be darkness again, and this time forever.

That demon was moving in front of him, soft steps on hard stone. Bending down, Alexander picked up the now full jar.

"Excellent," he said. "This will do just fine. We will drink it together, you and me."

Daniel tried to say something. Not a word came out.

"I told you," Alexander said. "I decide when it is enough. There is no way out, Daniel. You made sure of that. There is only me, and you're left here with me. Until I let you go."

Then he stood up.

"I will be back," he said, before being swallowed by the darkness.

In the little pool of light that barely kept the shadows at bay, Daniel waited. There was nothing else he could do, and he knew it. He knew it as well as he knew the pain, the numbness of his limbs, and the taste of blood and Damascus rose.

_I did the right thing, _he thought desperately. The words were not any comfort. They sounded like lies.

The darkness was closing in; he could feel it. It would take him in its grip and drag him away, enclosing him in it forever. Trapped in eternity in darkness with the man who hated him, continuing to spill his blood until the last day. The world was distorting around him, all shadows and pain and faded memories.

Soon.

Soon the light would go out.


End file.
